


Spike and Buffy's World Tour

by Baphrosia (spuffy_luvr)



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Angst, F/M, Romance, Season/Series 06
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-29
Updated: 2012-12-10
Packaged: 2017-11-19 19:45:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 6,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/576969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spuffy_luvr/pseuds/Baphrosia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A re-imagined S6, in parts.</p><p>Based on a series of prompts from fagends, this developed into a longer story, full of angst, romance, and larceny.  Now complete!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part One - Welcome to the Jungle

**Author's Note:**

> This started out as something silly on fagends (http://sb-fag-ends.livejournal.com/) and developed into an actual story. If you're not familiar with fagends, it is a spuffy prompts-based community with a maximum of 1000 words per prompt. Check them out! Chapter titles are based on the prompts used.
> 
> As always, Joss Whedon is a god who lets us play with his characters for entertainment purposes only.

Part One – Welcome to the Jungle

 

 

          Spike whirled.  “She’s making a run for it!”

          “Fuck!  We’ll never catch that thing.”

          Tugging her by the arm, he made to follow.  “Maybe not on foot, love, but we know where it’s gonna head.  Can track it, chase it down.”

          Buffy dug her feet in, shrugged.  “It’s leaving Sunnydale.  Not my problem anymore.”

          “What’s this, Slayer?  You gonna just let it get away?  That’s a pregnant female what snuck in through the portal.  She lays eggs – bam.  Won’t be your problem anymore, all right.  Won’t be any humans left to save once those nasties are finished.”

          “And you care since when?”

          Spike watched her, his eyes curious, intense.  “If you want to let her go, that’s your call,” he said slowly.

          “It’s just – why bother?  After this it’ll be something else.  Then something else after that.  It never ends.”

          Spike didn’t say anything.  Didn’t push her to do the right thing, didn’t push her to snap out of her funk.  Just watched her with eyes full of compassion.

          Buffy spun on her heel.  “We’re taking the Jeep.”

 

 

          She relaxed with every passing mile.  At first.  Dawn assigned to caretakers, nothing else to worry about but tracking the demon and Spike’s driving, flying through the nights until the sun rose and they were forced to find a skeezy motel for the day.  
          “One bed only… You take it,” Spike offered that first time.

          Buffy flopped down, leaving plenty of room beside her.  “Don’t get fresh”.

 

 

          By the third day they slept curled together, Spike’s arms tightening around her every time the nightmares came.

         

 

          “Damn, this thing is fast.  We’re always one step behind.”

          “Might actually catch it if you helped drive.”

          “Didn’t know you had a death wish, Spike.”  She peered at the mystical map again.  “We’re almost to the nesting site.  If she gets there first…”

 

 

          She’d grown more and more agitated as the trees grew denser, the air more moist, and now, two days in under the canopy, following rutted roads, she was vibrating in her seat.

          “We’re right behind the bitch, pet, don’t fret.  She’ll be demon shish-ka-bob in a matter of minutes.”

          “Funnily, that’s not what I’m worrying about.”   He cocked an eyebrow.  “Welcome to the jungle,” Buffy said with a pained smile.  “Stomping grounds of ex-Initiative ex-boyfriends.”

          “Ah.  What are the odds?”  She gave him a look.  “Fair enough.  You want for me to turn around?  Leave them to it?”

          Buffy straightened her shoulders.  “I don’t run.”

          “That’s my girl.”

 

 

          The demon was shish-ka-bobbed, only miles from her final destination, green, acidic blood dousing their clothes.  Buffy glanced at Spike, hesitant, then stripped to her skivvies, flinging her ruined clothes to join his already discarded t-shirt on the ground.  Spike tried to drag his eyes away but they kept darting back, zeroing in on her pert nipples.

          Buffy crossed her arms over her chest.  “This isn’t a free show, buddy.  I happen to have an aversion to flesh-eating acid touching, you know, my flesh.”  She scanned the area.  “Gotta find something to rinse off with.  And, uh…” she pointed to his jeans, the patches of visible skin growing larger by the second.  “You might want to get those off too.”

          “Can’t.”

          “Why not?  Are they stuck to you?”

          “Don’t have anything on underneath,” Spike mumbled. 

          “You… Guh… I won’t look,” she squeaked, eyes wide, pivoting away so fast she tripped.  “’Cause if you don’t… you’re not gonna have any jeans left anyhow.”

          There was the snick of a zipper.  “Right.  So… I’ll just go poking about the jungle in my altogether, look for a stream or something…”

          At that moment, fat, heavy drops of rain began to fall, quickly turning into a downpour.  Buffy’s thin form shivered under the chill night rain. Spike deliberated then stepped closer, wrapping his arms around her from behind, careful to keep things in the platonic zone.  “Can’t warm you up much, but…”

          She stiffened and he loosened his hold to step away, but she turned in his arms, pressing her cold, wet skin into his chest, chattering.  “Gotta rinse – rub the acid off,” she stammered, shivering violently in his arms.

          “I’ll do you for, pet,” he said, rubbing briskly down one arm and then the other.  Buffy reached up tentatively, doing the same for him, eyes locked on his.

          His dick forgot to behave.  Bloody impossibility, the way her efficient ministrations turned gentler, more exploratory, her hands fluttering over her chest.

          “Buffy…”

          She silenced him with her mouth.

 

 

          The odds played out as expected, oversized wankers interrupting what had promised to be a moment.

          Surprisingly (to both of them), she didn’t make excuses, didn’t hide what was happening.  The nudity was an issue, but the not the being nude together.  Her belligerent posture dared the ex to say anything, and he showed some sense for once, treating the situation as one hundred percent normal and expected.  Spike couldn’t help but smirk.

 

 

          Back to the Jeep, back to clothing that fit rather than army castoffs, and on towards home.  The first motel they reached, Buffy flopped onto the bed, right in the middle.

          “Spike.”

          He was already there. 


	2. Chapters 2&3 - Paradise City and Down on the Farm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 3 was originally posted on election day (all tongue in cheek).

 

Part Two - Paradise City

 

          “But we just got back.  And I have responsibilities.”

          “S’only L.A.  Could take the Bit with us.”

          “Awkward.  Also, not what springs to mind.”

          Spike snickered.  “Other things ‘springing’ to mind for you, love?”

          “I can see I’m going to regret this,” she muttered, pulling away from him.

          His voice dropped to a rumble.  “No regretting.   Promise me.”

          Buffy shivered but didn’t relent.  “Well then.  Behave.”  She picked up the newspaper again.  “I need to find a job.”

          “This will pay, Buffy.  Says right here.”  He shoved his glossy under her nose.  “Enough for a good couple months.”

          “And yet I don’t feel comfortable responding to an ad in ‘ _Demon Monthly_ ’.  Can’t figure why.”  She cuddled into him to take away the sting of her words.  “Spike.  My brain is on overload right now.  I’m still adapting to being not-dead.  Being pulled out of Heaven.  And…”  Her voice dropped to a whisper as she spoke into his bare chest.  “No offense, but more than a little wigged that you’re what’s keeping me going.”  His arms crept around her as she continued.  “Ring fights for money?  Don’t push it right now.”

          He didn’t, dozing against the headboard while Buffy continued to circle ads. 

“Hey,” she said later, waking him with a kiss.  “Dawn’s going to be home soon.  Got to go.  Will you be by tonight?”

          “If you want.  Fair warning, though, won’t be able to keep my hands to myself.  Think your mates might suspect something.”

          “You’re not going to be a secret, Spike.  Just… give me some time to figure out what to say.  Part and parcel of everything being too much right now.”

          “But this…” he motioned between them, “making things better, right, love?  Not ‘too much’?”

          She smiled.  “Oh, you’re definitely too much.  But I think in a good way.”

         

 

          After patrol, after the house was quiet and to themselves, Spike pulled out his magazine again, pointing to the ad he’d circled.  “Found something else you might want to have a gander at.”

          “ _Paradise City, Utah:  Request services of demon hunter for Dragoth infestation.  Will pay cash for services rendered_ ,” she read.

          “Not as lucrative, but… be doing good, helping these poor people out.  Like part of your Slayer calling, yeah?  Cash for services rendered would be no more’n a bonus.”

          “Still would have to leave.  Dawn…”

          “Think on it this way… you’d be gone for what, maybe a week?  But then, no slaving double shifts at a minimum wage job for days on end, always too tired to properly care for little Sis.  Ought to tide you over for a bit, least until you find a job you actually want.  ‘Sides, no reason she couldn’t come with.”

          Spike was pressing her back into the couch as he spoke, covering her with his body.  “Then again,” he smirked.  “Can think of at least one reason to leave her behind…”

         

 

          Dawn _didn’t_ get to visit Paradise City, Utah.

 

         

 

Part Three - Down on the Farm (A tribute to Orwellian swine)

         

          This was her life now, answering ads in _Demon Monthly_ , patrolling and raising Dawn the rest of the time.  Not everybody was comfortable with her choices but Buffy didn’t much care.  She was keeping the Hellmouth safe; she was raising her sister as best she could.  There was nothing else they were allowed to expect of her.

          Giles called from Bath, apologetic and offering a truce.

          “There is a reward in exchange for aid,” he told her.  “I thought you might be interested.  And well, I was hoping you and Dawn might holiday here after, for Christmas.  The others are welcome too, of course, as long as they pay their own way.”

          “Do those others include Spike?”

          He was silent so long she almost hung up.

 

 

          “So, what do you think?  Talking animals taking over the farm, fighting Farmer Jones for control – demonic possession?”

          “Sounds like Orwellian demons,” Spike said blandly.  “They mention Napoleon by any chance?  Snowball?”

          Buffy’s face scrunched up.  “Huh?”

 

 

          She grimaced, repulsed.

          “What?  Pig’s blood.  S’just a little fresher than is the norm.  Straight from the source,” he grinned, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, smearing the ruby liquid across his cheek.  It blended with blood already dripping from his hair and down his clothes.

          “Yeah, but…”

          “Don’t be telling me I can’t drink pig’s blood now!  First it’s people off the menu, next it’s pigs… Soon you’ll be wanting me to be a vegetarian vamp!”

          “It just seems wrong,” she shuddered.  “They talked.  Like _people_.”

          “Yeah,” he said happily.  “T’was brilliant.  ’Sides, they deserved it.  Talking comrades and equality and all that bunk.”

          Buffy cocked an eyebrow, “So, what, you’re a political vamp now?  Going to join the ranks of undead voters?”

          “Sod that!  Vampire,” he pointed to himself indignantly.  “Only good political system is anarchy.  Anarchy in the UK!” he hollered, pumping his fist.  Buffy giggled behind her hand.

          “Well good, I was worried I was going to come home to find you doing the dance of capitalistic superiority with Anya.”

          “Pffft,” he scoffed.  “Hate capitalist pigs.”

          Buffy wrinkled her nose.  “Think these were socialist pigs, honey.”

          “Hate them too.”  He ran his tongue over his fangs.  “Though maybe not so much these ones.”  He glanced around at the other animals who were regarding him with a horrified expression.  The sheep bleated in terror, pressing back against the barn wall.  Spike lunged at them and they scattered, leaving him howling with laughter.

         She glared at him. 

          “Ah, don’t be like that, love.  How ‘bout this – how ‘bout if I carve this one here up, he’ll make a lovely ham, we can bring it round to the Watcher’s for dinner.”

        Buffy turned green and ran for the bushes. 

        “What?  What’d I say?”


	3. Chapters 4&5 - Set Fire to the Rain & Only Happy When it Rains

Set Fire to the Rain

 

She’d always avoided patrolling during rain.  Ever since her seventeenth birthday.  She was self-aware enough to know why, deny it though she would.  Bad associations, right?

Even now, even after the interlude in the jungle that had left her with far more pleasant associations, she still felt uncomfortable leaving the house at night if there was the barest hint of rain.

It wasn’t a problem in Sunnydale.

It was a hell of a problem in London.

It had poured every night for the last week, and promised to rain every night for the next.  Sure, they’d be back to Sunnydale soon enough, but that didn’t solve her current problem.

Spike was still looking at her expectantly.  “We going to head out tonight, love?  Don’t have much more time to catch that bugger.  Be a shame to miss out on the reward.”

“I…”  Nothing else came out.

“You still not feeling well?” he asked, brow furrowed, concerned.

She couldn’t pull it off again tonight.  Could she?

With a sigh, she reached for her boots.  “Nah, I’m fine.  Come on, let’s go earn our keep.”

 

 

Every drop of rain made her flinch, every splatter left her ready to flee back to the hotel, back to safety.  She gritted her teeth.  It was time to Slayer up, move past her fears.

The rain grew more insistent, as if to force her to cave.

Buffy pushed her sodden hair out of her face, miserable.  “You have any idea where to start?”

“Right here,” Spike said, taking her by the shoulder and tipping her face up to his.  He pressed his mouth to hers, gentle but insistent.  Her lips were so chilled that his felt warm in comparison.  Their softness drew her in, almost made her forget.  “You want to tell me about it?” he asked when she drew away.

“No?” 

His face closed off, hurt, and she felt like a dick as he twisted away, ready to walk on, but her hand found his arm, stopped him.  His muscles tensed under her fingers, and he tipped his head, watched her, waited on her move.

Her free hand found his chest, pectorals clearly visible through the wet t-shirt plastered to his skin.  She traced each curve through the soaked fabric, her other hand moving upwards to tangle in his dripping curls.  The rain had collected in his lashes, making them even longer and darker than usual.  A raindrop rolled down his nose, splattering onto her upturned face.

“You’re awfully cute when you’re all wet,” she said.

“Was hoping for sexy, but I’ll take it.”

Buffy looked down at the very obvious bulge straining his wet jeans, then back up at his face.  “That too.”

His hands were sliding over her body now, heating her flesh through her own clinging clothes.  “You’re bloody gorgeous.”

“Drowned rat,” she countered.

“Bloody gorgeous drowned rat,” he insisted.

She stared into his eyes.  “You love me.”

“You know I do.”  She did.  He wouldn’t hurt her, wouldn’t leave her.  Wouldn’t lose the soul he didn’t have.  _Why?_

She found it didn’t matter.  The warmth in her belly grew, spread through her body, out to the tips of her fingers and toes, chasing away the shivering, chasing away the fear.

The rain felt different now.  Good on her burning flesh.  She peered around, suddenly on fire with need for him, but no one else was fool enough to be out tonight.  The cemetery was all theirs.

Buffy stepped back, looked into his eyes.  Peeled off her jacket, then her shirt. 

Relished the feel of the rain against her bare skin. 

“Come on Big Bad,” she said, her voice husky, her desire heightened by the naked lust in his.  “Wanna see if we can set fire to the rain?”

 

 

 

Only Happy When it Rains

 

He noticed a trend in the following weeks.  A rash of jobs in rain-soaked places.  Kauai.  The Colombian rain forest.  Monsoon season in Thailand.  She was no longer an indoor Slayer when it rained.  Something had changed.

The moment that first drop hit, she shed her inhibitions like an outer skin, became someone born anew. 

Free.

It was liberating at first.  He’d been such a good little vamp.  Been the man she needed him to be.  But now she wanted to play on the dark side, try on his world, and that was okay by him. 

There were experiments in techniques he couldn’t spell and positions that had no name and games that his sire would have enjoyed, nothing holding his Slayer back but the limits of their imagination.  Just the scent of rain was enough now to make him so hard he couldn’t walk straight, couldn’t think straight. 

She was the willing instigator, so he didn’t worry, happily going along with whatever she wanted to try.  Pain and blood and sex?  _Vampire here._   No complaining from him.  It was mixed in with enough loving touches and tender glances to set his mind at ease.

What worried him was the rest of it.  Shoplifting here, B&E there.  Picking fights with Colombian drug lords because she could.  Destruction of property for the thrill of it.  Never anything that crossed the line, but when he was the one holding the moral compass, the one saying ‘no’, well. 

Wasn’t right, was it? 

He loved her too much for that.

 


	4. Chapter 6 - To Lay it on the Line

Part Six - To Lay it on the Line

 

“How much longer we going to walk on the wild side, pet?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Of course.  In Sunnydale, there was never mention of what happened elsewhere.  She turned her nose up and refused to answer, or distracted him with kisses.  Or the occasional punch.

Caught in a rare rainstorm in Vegas one night, it was a different story.  The white sundress she wore had plastered enticingly to her skin, making obvious the lack of undergarments beneath.

“Look at that,” she breathed, face wild with abandon.  “Me liiiike.”  Buffy leaned over to caress the shiny hood of the very nice car, and his already throbbing cock went beyond painful, what with the images running through his mind of shoving her forward and taking her on the hood. 

A look thrown over her shoulder let him know she shared in the fantasy.  “Wanna take me for a test drive?”  When had she learned to leer like that?  Spike didn’t answer.  He needed his own questions answered, couldn’t make his brain work to ask them.  “Hey, vampire!  We gonna steal this or what?”

 _Or what…_ Right?  His eyes slid over the car, already imagining the thrum of the engine as they sped down the road, Buffy curled into his side, tiny hand sliding up and down his dick, and… _NO!_

“Think we need to have a conversation instead.”

She licked her lips.  “I’ll fuck you while you’re driving.”  It was the only thing she’d turned down so far, afraid of dying in a fiery car crash.  What little blood was left in his brain travelled south, leaving his eyes crossed.  She giggled.

“Uh.” 

 _Wait, no_. 

“How ‘bout this.  We nick the car, you tell me what’s going on in that pretty little noggin of yours.  Why we’re playing at Bonnie and Clyde every time it rains.”

Pursing her lips, Buffy said, “Some demon you are.”  He didn’t back down.  “Fine,” she huffed.  “You get those sticky fingers of yours busy…”  Said fingers twitched in anticipation, “… and I’ll talk.”

 

 

“After,” she insisted, climbing onto his lap, fitting her body into the space between his hard chest and the steering wheel as they flew down the highway.  “I need this.”  She rocked against him.  “So do you.”

Spike gripped the steering wheel harder, holding on for dear life as she rode him, keeping his promise that he wouldn’t lose control of the car and send them to their fiery deaths.

 

 

Somewhere in the desert between Vegas and Sunnydale, they lay on the hood of the car, wrapped in a blanket, staring up at the night sky.

“So?” he said, letting out a stream of smoke.  She fidgeted, didn’t answer.  “You promised, Buffy.”

“I thought we were having fun,” she said in a small voice.  “Weren’t we?”

He took another drag.  “Was fun for a bit.  Doesn’t feel right, though.”

She propped herself up so she could look at his face.  “So… even with the Slayer encouraging you to let loose, you’re choosing to do the right thing?”

 “Guess so,” he chuckled dryly.

Her grin lit up the night sky.  “I love you, Spike.”

The fag fell from his fingers.  “What was that?”  She’d never before said those words.

“Spike.  I love you.”

He swallowed.  “Wh- what brought this on?”

Laying back down, she said, “Don’t get me wrong, I was, uh… well, it was nice to be free.  To let out my inner Faith for a bit.  With you.  It was safe with you, because you love me, you know?”

“But.”

“But… Well, I wanted to know something.  About you.”

He cottoned on.  “Wanted to know if I was more demon or man.”

“Yeah.”  Her hands twisted together.  “I wanted to give you that choice.  As best I could, what with the chip and all.”

“I see.  And I passed your test.”

She looked over at him, wide eyes glistening.  “Are you mad?”

“Could’ve just asked me, you know.”

“Hello, have we met?  You think I could do things the easy way?  Besides… I wanted you to make the choice for you, not me.  You know what I mean?”

He thought he did.  “And what if I hadn’t passed your test, Slayer?  What then?”

“Oh.  I never thought you wouldn’t.  I knew you were a good man.  I just wanted you to know it too.”  His anger melted away at her admission.  Mostly.

Her brow furrowed in thought.  “But if you hadn’t made the right choice…”  She gave him a wicked smile.  “I would have had to love you up until you did.”

He almost wished he’d chosen the life of delinquency.  But then he thought of those words.  The ones he hadn’t thought to ever hear from her.

Who needed evil anyhow?


	5. Chapter 7 - Never Mind the Darkness

Never Mind the Darkness

 

It was that night in the rain that started it.

She’d realized she’d fallen in love with a soulless demon, and it scared her.  She was the Slayer.  Duty-bound to kill the demons, not love them, no matter how different this one was.  Look where it had gotten her before.

And maybe this one couldn’t lose his soul, but… he could lose his chip.  Then what?  How long would he be content to play at being a man for her?

She’d had to know.

Put it that way, and she sounded cold and calculating, but that wasn’t how it had been.  There hadn’t been much rational thought at all, actually.  How much self-awareness did you really expect her to have?  Hmmm?

Something about the rain had set her off every time and she hadn’t known why.  Only when he began to question her behavior did she think about it, analyze it.  Realize what she was doing.

His voice drew her out of her thoughts.  “So we back to being the holier-than-thou Slayer and her vampire consort then?  No more with the Bonnie and Clyde routine?”

“Um...”  She wrinkled her nose.  Took his hand.  “What do _you_ want?”

Spike rubbed his jaw, eyes twinkling.  “Maybe we can save the larceny for special occasions, like.”

Buffy laughed, long and hard.  “Yup.  I really do love you.”  Ridiculous though it was, considering all they’d done together recently, she blushed as she whispered, “We don’t have to save the crazy sex for special occasions though, right?”

It was his turn to laugh.  He reined it in as her blush deepened, kissing away her mortification until she was pliant in his arms.  “Love you so much, Buffy.  Think I’d combust if I loved you any more than I do.”

“Well then I’ll just have to be extra difficult to love.  Don’t want to be dating a big pile of dust.”

 

 

“Remind me why we took this job?” she chattered.

“Lots’o dosh.  Near twenty-four darkness.  Thrill of the hunt.  Adventure.”  He gave her a wicked smile.  “Penguins.”

“Don’t remind me about those stupid birds,” she growled.  “If I never see another penguin I’ll die a happy woman.”

He rubbed his hands together.  “I wouldn’t mind.  Tasty lot.  Almost as good as the pigs.  Got a certain exotic flair to ‘em.”

“I’m just going to pretend that my boyfriend isn’t comparing the finer points of penguins to pigs,” she grumbled, trudging on.

 

 

“Right about now is one of those times that I really hate your undead status.”

“What?  Why?”

“You’re all cold.  I mean, would it have killed you to put on a snowsuit instead of strutting around in your duster like some overly cool guy?  And now you’re stealing all my body heat,” she complained.

“This’ll perk you right up.”

“You brought a nice warm house with a furnace in your backpack?”

“Nah.”  He reached up to open a tent flap, ignoring her protests.  “Look.”

“Oh.  Wow.”

They lay together, hands linked, watching the Aurora Australis shimmer overhead.

“Okay,” she whispered.  “That makes it all worthwhile, right there.”

“Never seen ‘em before.  Not these _or_ the Northern ones.”

“Really?” she asked, surprised.  He grunted.  “Then this just became my favorite place in the world.”

Spike rolled to take her face in both his hands.  “Mine too.”

 

 

They were on the plane home when she asked, “So, you wanna move in with me when we get back?”

He choked on his drink.  “Come again?”

“Well.  I just figured, with the you loving me and the me loving you… and we’re both mature adults.  One of us more than the other,” she added under her breath, then continued.  “We could, you know, live together.  Like a real couple.”  When he continued to stare at her, she said, “Or not.  It was just an idea.”

“Buffy.”  His voice was so deep she could barely hear it.  “Buffy,” he repeated, unable to say anything else.  She bit her lip, tried to read his face, unsure of what he was trying to get out.  Finally he took her hand, placed over his heart.  “If my heart could beat it would break my chest.”

“Oh.”  She smiled.  “So is that a yes?”


	6. Chapter 8 - Right Next Door to Hell

Right Next Door to Hell

 

Dawn might have been happier with the arrangement than Buffy was.  It was all very romantic sounding, moving in together, sharing both days and nights and bathrooms and bedrooms and refrigerator space and the TV remote control.

It was more than a little different in practice.

The witches had moved out a few months back, after Christmas, and so the transition to making the master bedroom theirs had been easy, if strange.  Buffy had never before lived with a man; Spike had never before lived as a man.  Well, not in well over a hundred years.  There were adjustments on both sides.

He:  left wet towels on the bed, mugs of blood sitting around ( _which attracted flies, and how gross was that?_ ), boots in the middle of the hallway. 

She:  (and Dawn) blared pop music during their Saturday afternoon cleaning sprees, when all respectable vampires were sleeping off the excesses of the night before. 

He:  had to be convinced to wear _something_ when he was wandering about the house, even if Dawn was at school, and to please not answer the door in the ( _mostly_ ) nude, especially on the day when social services was set to drop by for their six-month check up.

She:  refused to budge their routine at all, not just for cleaning, but anything, repeating the same tired explanation that _this was how they did things in the Summers household, this was what worked_.  So ix-nay on watching a movie with the little Bit _before_ homework was complete, thank you very much.

Somehow taking out the trash became his responsibility, though she’d handled it just fine without him for months on end ( _Ew!  It’s full of yucky blood bags!_ ).  On the other hand, handling the money was completely her domain ( _Sweetie, you can’t pay the electric bill with quarters, you have to use a check.  Just let me do it, okay?_ ), with her doling out spending money to him and Dawn both, never mind that he earned half of it.  ( _Just because he’d misplaced that wad of cash the one time.  S’not like he’d ever had to worry about money before.  You needed it, you went out and got some.  What was the big deal?)_

So yes.  Adjustments all around.

But so very worth it. 

( _Most of the time._ )

 

 

“S’for you,” Spike said, handing her the phone one morning.

Cordelia was on the other end.  “Buffy?  Was that Spike who answered your phone?  Why is Spike in your house?”

She screwed up.  Didn’t answer right away.  She could see it in the stiffness of his back, the tightness of his jaw, that he was going to take it wrong.  In all fairness, her lack of response was more out of surprise than anything else.  She wasn’t used to being questioned about her relationship with the vampire anymore, and besides, it was _Cordelia_.  Her high school rival.  Of sorts.  Some feelings of inadequacy never die.

That, and… “Cordelia?  _Why_ are you calling me?”

 

 

“So.  The brooding one not know about us?  Figure he’s going to come swooping in one of these days, ready to pick up where you left off, then it’ll be kick ol’ Spike to the curb, eh?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Well if the cheerleader doesn’t know, and you’re not so keen on telling her, must be a reason.  Want your honey still, do you?”

“You’re a bonehead.  And an asshole.”

“What is it, Buffy?  Why the big secret?”

“No secret.  I called Angel months ago.  Right before we went to England for Christmas.  Didn’t want him to hear it from anybody else.  I guess he didn’t tell Cordy.”

“Put your own spin on it, eh?  _Oh Angel, you’ll always be the one, Spike’s just to pass the time with_.”

 

 

Somehow they recovered from that, after blood was drawn and doors were slammed and Spike disappeared for over a day.  She explained and he apologized, but the security Buffy had felt?  The surety that Spike loved her, wouldn’t leave? 

Little bit shaken.

 

 

Things felt different now.  Maybe they shouldn’t have moved in together.  Strange enough an epic romance between a soulless vampire and a Vampire Slayer, but to share close quarters in harmony?  Apparently too much to ask when both their tempers ran so high.

The final straw was finding out Spike was teaching her little sister how to be a better thief.  Except the lesson hadn’t stuck.  Based on the phone call from the police station.

“You!  Dawn!  And the social services!  Bad influence –taken away!” she spluttered incoherently.

“Was okay when you wanted a five-finger discount then?  The Slayer is above the law, but everyone else has to play by the rules?”

 

 

He wouldn’t be walking normally for days yet.  Maybe he deserved it.  Should have apologized, not egged her on.  Hell, he was lucky he wasn’t a pile of dust, truth be told.  He understood now, listening in from the spare bedroom he’d been banished to while Buffy promised the social worker over and over that it wouldn’t happen again if she could just have one more chance, and yes she would remove any bad influences from her little sister’s life, whatever it took, just _please_ , didn’t they deserve another chance when she’d been doing everything right for months now?

Bad influences would be him, then.  He wondered if the crypt was still open.  Maybe once he moved out they could find their way back to what they’d had before.  When she’d loved him.

Not bloody likely.

 


	7. Chapter 9 - Everybody Needs Somebody

Nine - Everybody Needs Somebody

 

 

The house remained unnaturally quiet.  Dawn wouldn’t speak to Buffy, Buffy wouldn’t speak to Spike, and Spike stayed cloistered in the spare room, awaiting his eviction notice.  Apparently the Slayer was still fond enough of him to not kick him out before he healed.  He tried to hurry it up as best he could.  No point in prolonging the inevitable.

 

 

She came home to find him staring forlornly into their bedroom, duffle bag in hand.  “So you’re leaving?”

“Thought it was for the best.  Make things easy on you.”

“Right.  For my own good.  It’s always for my own good.”  Nobody ever told the truth: _You’re unlovable, Buffy Summers.  Not worth the effort._   The fading bruises on his face, the ones she couldn’t bear to look at, were proof enough.  “Where you gonna go?”

“Crypt’s still open.”

Well at least he didn’t hate her so much he had to leave town.  Or was that a good thing?  To run into him, see him, know what she’d lost?  “You sure you want to stick around Sunnydale?” came out before she could stop herself.  A sideways glance showed his face closed off.  Blank.

Oh God.  It was happening again. 

And this time she wouldn’t recover.

He turned, jerked.  Hesitated.  “You know where to find me if you need me.”  Walked down the stairs, to the door, put his hand on the doorknob.  Ready to walk out of her life.

Xander’s advice of a year ago echoed in her head.  _If you think you can really love this guy… think about what you’re about to lose._  

Different guy.  Same scene. 

Always the same scene.

No.  Worse.  Because this guy?  _The One_.  Capital letters and all.  No wondering if she loved him; she knew it in depths of her soul.

The doorknob turned. 

“Spike!  Wait!”  she screamed, flying down the stairs.  “Please, I’m so sorry, it’ll never happen again, I need you, love you…”  Over and over, a litany of pleading while he stood there, frozen.  She fell to her knees, wrapped her arms around his.  “I’ll try harder,” she whispered through her tears.  “Just don’t go.”

Somehow he knelt, tipping her face to his, his own eyes full of tears.  “You – you don’t want me to go?”

She couldn’t face those beautiful, marred eyes.  “If you want to, I understand.”

“D’you even know me, Buffy?  Last thing I want to do is walk out that door.”

“But.  Why?”

 

 

Why what?  Why didn’t he want to go?  Why was he leaving when he’d rather greet hell than walk through that door?  Which did she want answered?

“Bad influence, here.  You as good as said you didn’t want me around the little Bit.”

“Huh?  No I didn’t.”

“Sure you did.  To the nice lady from social services.  Don’t blame you either, cocked it all up for you and your little Sis.”

“So you were just… going to go?  What if I hadn’t come home?”   The tears were gone now, replaced by the fire he loved so well, but he was no less confused. 

“You really don’t want me gone?”

“Isn’t that what I said?”

“Why not?”

There was no hesitation.  “Because I love you, you moron.”  She was instantly contrite, hands fluttering in dismay.  “Sorry.  Sorry.  I’m so sorry.”

“Buffy.  Love.  Stop.”

“But I hurt you.  And I didn’t mean to and I shouldn’t have and I’m so-”

“Hush, sweet.  No lasting harm, an’ I more than deserved it, though I’d be ever so grateful if you’d mind the nose next time.”

“Stop forgiving me.”

“You’ve forgiven me far worse.”

“But-”

“You listen to me, Buffy Anne Summers.  You know the worst of me.  Know what I am.  And yet you’ve taken me into your home, your life, your heart.  Don’t want me to leave even when we both know I’ll be nothing but trouble for you.  You know the worst of me… And I know the worst of you.”  He tipped her chin up again.  “And it only makes me love you more.  You want me to stay, I’ll stay.  As long as you let me.  Never gonna leave your side unless you ask it of me.”

“I don’t deserve you.”

“Daft woman.  You solve problems with your fists.  So do I.”

“You never would have -”

“Been known to use chains.  And a cattle prod.”

She laughed, but not in amusement.  “Fine.  We’re both idiots.”

“That’s right.  Deserve each other.”

“I’m sorry, Spike.”

“Yeah well.  ‘M sorry too.  Wasn’t thinking of the consequences.  ‘M a moron, as you said.”

They’d ended up wrapped in each other’s arms.  “You sure you don’t want to leave me?” she asked, the tears returning.

He stroked her hair.  “’M not the leaving kind, pet.  Loved the same woman for a hundred an’ twenty years, and she was bleeding insane.  So you’re a little bitchy.  S’bloody heaven in comparison.”

“And there’s a ringing endorsement of our love.  I’m easier to handle than the crazy woman.”

“More to it than that, and you know it.”

 

 

It wouldn’t be their last knock-down drag-out fight, or even their worst.  But it was the one that mattered most, because it was when they’d realized nothing was going to tear them apart. 

Not even their own stupid selves.


	8. Chapter 10 - Dust and Bones

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You've come to the end. Thanks for reading!

 

Dust and Bones

 

 

_The Hellmouth – it’s collapsing, we need to –_

_Buffy.  I’m not going to leave until this is finished._

_But – you could take the amulet off – we can still –_

_Not going to happen._

A small group of survivors gathered on the edge of the crater that used to be Sunnydale, cuts and bruises forgotten in the face of what they’d escaped.  Willow and Xander each took one of Dawn’s hands as she whispered, “They really didn’t make it out, did they?”

 

_I love you._

_Love you too, Buffy.  I always have.  But you need to leave.  They’re waiting for you._

_I…_

_Yo, B, you need to haul ass if you’re going to make it out of here!_

 

“No, sweetie,” Willow answered.  “They didn’t.”

 “It’s not fair,” the teenager cried out.  “They – I mean.  Slayer!  And vampire!  If anybody should have… I’m here.  Xander made it.  Even Anya and Andrew got out of there in one piece, and-”

 

_Most of the Potentials have been sent to Angel’s team in LA, Buffy.  Only the ones who are prepared to fight have remained behind._

_Okay.  Then tomorrow we do this._

 

Xander squeezed her hand.  “It was their choice, Dawnie.  They did it to save the rest of us.  It was what they wanted.”

She wouldn’t be consoled.  “How do you know that?  What if – what if they’re trapped, waiting for us-”

 

_I don’t think Willow’s spell is going to hold much longer; we’re going to have to fall back, find a new –_

_The amulet, Buffy.  Look!_

_It’s wiping out the Turok Han…_

 

 “Dawn.  It’s terrible.  The price we pay as Slayers.  But Faith… she made the call,” Buffy said, wrapping her arms around her little sister from behind.  “She stayed so I wouldn’t have to this time.  Somebody had to protect him while the amulet did its work, and they wouldn’t let it be me.  They knew I would be needed here.  With you.  And no, Dawnie,” she said as Dawn opened her mouth to protest, “they’re… they’re not trapped.  They’re gone.  Nobody could have survived.”

“How can you be so calm?” Dawn demanded.  “It’s like you don’t even care!”

_Yo, B, you need to haul ass if you’re going to make it out of here!_

_Faith, there are still more Bringers coming – somebody needs to protect him until the amulet finishes –_

_Then get your skinny white ass up to your sister so I can get to work already.  Arguing with me isn’t gonna –_

 

“You know that’s not true, Nibblet,” said a gruff voice from beneath a smoldering blanket.  “Big Sis will be mourning the hardest of any of us.”

Dawn glared at the blanket.  “We all know you didn’t like him.  And okay, _I_ didn’t like him.  It’s just…”

“Too much death,” Spike answered.  “I get it, sweetness.  Maybe me and Angel didn’t see eye to eye, but the old man came through in the end.  When it counted.  And we’re all gonna honor him for that.  Him and Faith both.”

_Stay here, guard Dawn._

_Want to be by your side, love._

_I can’t Spike.  I need you protecting her.  You know, until the end of the world?_

_Oh sure, pick Angel over me._

_Spike…_

_Yeah yeah.  Little Bit’s determined to fight, Big Bad will be by her side.  In the sodding hallway._

 

“They saved us all,” Buffy added.

The survivors stood in silence a moment longer, until Giles said, “We ought to leave.  We have wounded to tend to, Potentials to return to their families now that their lives are no longer in danger.”

 

_Dawn needs you, Buffy.  Spike needs you.  You’ve had your turn to save the world.  Now it’s ours._

_Angel…_

_Go._

_B!  Get the hell outta here!_

 

With a final glance back at the crater, Buffy said softly, “And somewhere there’s a new Slayer to be trained.”

 

 

She woke in his arms, snuggled into him. 

“Well, pet?  Where we off to?”

Where to indeed?  They’d settled Dawn in at college over the weekend.  Giles was in Cleveland with Vi, the sanctioned Slayer.  She and her vampire could go anywhere, do anything.  The world was their oyster.

“Dunno.  I’m open to anything.  What do you think?”

Spike … blushed?  “I ever show you where I grew up? In Kent?”

He’d never before shared anything about his human life.  Except that one time in London, when he’d dismissively pointed out the house he’d lived in with his mum.

Buffy snuggled deeper into his arms.   “I’d love to see it.” 

 “Well that’s grand.  Seeing as I rented the place for a few months.  Thought we might have a vacation there.”

“Does this vacation include killing things?”  He nodded.  “So when’s the plane leave?”

 

 

THE END

 

A/N:  Fooled you, huh?  That last prompt - Dust and Bones - could really only be one thing in my mind.  A vampire and a Slayer had to die.  But I just couldn't do it to Spike and Buffy, not this time.  Hope you enjoyed their ride!

 


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